


Soft Was The Sun

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-21 00:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: As summer winds down, Jack reflects on the future. Slibbs





	Soft Was The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This is short. Incredibly short. So short that I contemplated keeping it and making it part of a larger story I'm fairly certain will follow over the next few weeks. But it stands on its own and serves as a good set up for a bigger idea. (I'll stop here before my notes are longer than the story!)

The late summer night still held on in the way that made the condensation roll down the brown bottle and the fine hairs from her ponytail stick to her neck; in the way the smaller kids in the neighbourhood barreled up and down the street on their bikes, avoiding the older kids who had wooden skateboard ramps that looked suspiciously like random pieces from a certain basement. Tantalizing aromas from a barbecue somewhere down the street wafted through the warm air, and had she not already enjoyed her own steak, she might have been tempted to track down the source. She closed her eyes to the moment.

"I could sit in a rocking chair all day and watch these kids grow up." Her voice was honey in its wistfulness. It wasn't until she heard the chuckle to her right that she realized she had said the words out loud. The inference behind the yearning hit her ears and her eyes snapped open. 

She was just about to backtrack when he reached over to brush back a tendril.

"Kinda young for a rocking chair, aren't ya, Sloane?"

The warmth at being called by her surname inexplicably held more weight when the man who said it was only ever referred to by his last name. That, and she knew he wasn't only letting her off the hook, but in his own way, was encouraging the potential.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe a hammock."

"Nah." He leaned closer to put his lips to her ear. "Hammock goes it the backyard. Less visibility."

The suggestiveness was obvious in his slow drawl and nuzzle and in his fingers sneaky exploration that pulled at the frayed ends of her cutoff shorts. 

"You're incorrigible."

"Wait 'til you hear about my plans for the winter."

…..

-end


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